Open Who goes there?

[Valo]

OOCThis is a fallow on thread from the 'Parting the Waves' thread in which a mysterious stranger shows up on the waters of Zeltiva. 76th Winter 512AV Midnight At the end of the road up from the docks Some men are very much capable of learning from their own mistakes and then some are not. It seems that after a near brush with death, some forty days ago, the memory had been almost forgotten. Not the terrible events that fallowed directly after that almost drowning of his, but the prerequisite of ale on his taste buds. Kelp beer had a strange taste, a salty strange taste which seemed at first not to compliment the ethanol within it. But men with enough love for the state of drunkenness can easily grow used to it. Valo was such a man. He wasn't quite drunk yet, for the longer he resided in Zeltiva, the more immune he became to the sinister effects of the beverage upon his own wit. But he was indeed close to that. A first stage of drunkenness of a sort. And that was precisely the making of decisions which were completely conductive to priority. For if he had been a man with half a brain - or a man that could at least peek into the future and such ability would do him a great deal of good - he'd have walked straight home from the visit at the Kelp Bar. But sadly that was no the case. He truly did spend too much time at the dock, though the majority of that time was during the hours of the sun. Never before had the red haired artist ventured there at midnight, when the moon was the master of the tar black sky, casting it's cold illumine scent gaze upon everything in it's path. A romantic scene perhaps, as the artist's inquisitive eyes fell upon the mirror of water, lazily reflecting that very gaze of the moon. A profound stillness hung in the air. A peace. A calm before the storm. He only hoped that no Wave Guard would suss out his presence and command him to return home. These were dark times that befell his beloved Zeltiva. With a murderer on the loose all citizens, apart from Valo it seemed, had grown in unease. With the hood of his black coat pulled over his face to mask that ridiculously red hair of his, rendering shadows over his face from which green eyes gleamed - much like the eyes of a cat in the darkness - he must have looked strange and very much unlike him self. A stealth of a man ever so slightly drunk. He hovered far from the edge of the dock, an insignificant silhouette in the dark with a sketchbook and a pencil in his hand which already began scribbling the shapes of the obelisks in the dark. Gentle pencil marks filled the page, soft shading, those green eyes darting between the paper and the open sea. It was only after several long moments that he realised he was not entirely alone. Not alone at all. A muted gasp escaped his lips as he swiftly ducked around the corner into the safety of the shadows and observed the scene before him. The book and the pencil now lay abandoned at the bottom of his bag. Green eyes filled with both curiosity and weariness, for there was a boat on the water and in that boat was a hooded creature, completely unidentifiable due to the clothing but of human stature. "Who goes there?" demanded the voice of the wave guard, just laud enough for the artist to hear the clearly articulated command. A simple command to which the only reply was the raising of a hand from the hooded stranger and, seemingly as a response to that, the boat in which the Wave Guard travelled flipped over and they plunged into the inky depths. Silence swallowed them. Ah so the man's a mage of some sort. thought Valo, thinking it better to stay in the protective shadow of his corner for the intentions of the stranger were clearly ill. And as moments passed a great worry overcame him and that worry turned into a profound sense of panic which he struggled to subdue, for neither of the two Wave Guards came back up for air. And as the moments dragged on relentlessly, still no movement in the water until he knew they were dead, drowned and lost to the world. They were murdered, but still the artist prayed dearly to see their heads poke though the surface in fits of coughing. His prayers were unanswered. It was the second death he had witnessed this season and one which would haunt him equally to the very first one. The mage made for the obelisks which stood proudly in the cool moonlight. A deathly silence remaining in the air as if it was some unstoppable force. Or perhaps Valo had gone deaf, or perhaps his subtly intoxicated mind was asleep somewhere in a bar and this was all a cruel dream. All options equally viable. And if this was a dream then how was he to wake up? It seemed Valo truly had no wish to see more. Whatever the hooded stranger was going to do with the obelisks was out of his hands now and wiped from his conscience for he was just a simple artist and he wished for nothing more than a simple life. It was truly enough! Enough murder, enough trouble and enough mystery that his fragile human heart could take. Some would call him a coward, but he was a survivalist and if life taught him anything over the season of winter, was that to survive he had to keep out of trouble rather than blindly flock to it. And with that very thought he turned on his heal and strode quickly and with purpose back up the read from the docks, the road to his house, away from the hooded strange and away from all of this. But no matter how he tried to escape, the scene seemed to have fallowed him. And barely did he make it to the end of the road which branched off in the direction of his house, a powerful noise erupted from behind him which broke the silence. And that silence would never return. The storm was upon them as each and every citizen would no doubt be awoken from their blissful slumber to the roar of the atrocity at hand.

[Ayatah]

The night air welcomed Ayatah’s skin, which prickled ever so slightly into tiny goosebumps at the cool touch. The night was dark, late and ever so black. But it cloaked Ayatah well, meaning that she could slip in and out of side streets and shadows like an alley cat. She liked the anonymity, the secret of it all. Even her precious pet, Kiwi the bird, did not know of his owner’s late night promenades.

There was no deep meaning behind them, no creative juices that flowed particularly well during silent nights. She simply… liked it. The quietness of her room was claustrophobic, the walls seeming to come closer and closer. But outside, the quietness was wide and open.

East Street was her favourite place to wander, despite the warnings to avoid it after dark. She was a Myrian (albeit only half of one), and she would not fear city pickpockets and murderers. Her people ate their enemies; they were not stupid enough to kill a person and leave the body for some political or artistic purpose. Who does that?

But tonight, Ayatah found herself approaching the docks, watching out the night sky bled into the night water, and how the moon’s reflection was skewed in the dark waves. Having lived in the jungle her entire life with only the Kandukta as a water source, Ayatah had never truly appreciated how pretty water at night was.

“Why goes there?” The voice was too distant for it to be aimed at Ayatah, yet she still stepped sideways into the shadows quickly to conceal herself. There were no wave guards that she could see, and for a moment, Ayatah was confused.

Walking a little further towards the sea, she saw something; a boat turned upside down, bobbing helplessly. Odd…. Her dark eyes scanned the black sea, and they fell upon another boat with a solitary figure standing upon it. Something cold ran through Ayatah’s veins and trickled down her spine - fear? Anticipation?

This all felt so dark.

The lonesome figure in his boat eventually moved on, towards the obelisks that stood in the water like soldiers. The night was so quiet - but not in a peaceful way. It reminded Ayatah of the Falynder Jungle, how Myrians would move amongst it silently, ready to kill.

Something is going to happen, she thought - though had no clue what exactly to predict.

Many things suddenly happened at once, and all very quickly. Although Ayatah had had no clue what to expect - what eventually happened was something that she even knew how to imagine.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Nai'a]

Nai’a left Meka sound asleep in their room at the World’s End Groto, her mind was racing in fear of Zeltiva. Healing people twelve or more hours a day, trying to fight the battle of the sickness, trying to triumph over the darkness, trying to tear away the shroud of pestilence that had covered this once glorious city, trying always trying. She saw many things as a healer, things those weak of the mind would be tortured with for all their years. Small children whimpering in their sleep, as pain wracked their body from the disease. But the worse sight to behold for Nai’a was seeing the cold dead stare in the children’s eyes, that was once full of hope, innocence and joy. She prayed many times a day and night to Rak’Keli, to save them from this disease, to give her the strength and courage to everyday to try to save those she could. But the images of those children were haunting her, and she needed to escape them. So she decided to take a stroll in the cold midnight air, in hopes to clear her mind.

She approached the docks seeking calm and comfort from the blissful rolling waves, but what she received instead was something that would haunt her along with the death of those young souls. It seemed something was happening out in the distance of the waters, the wave guard was there, asking who goes there, but she did not catch any more of them talking as she watched a hooded figure raise his hand, obviously having the power of Reimancy, controlling the water like she did, flipping the boat with a huge wave the wave guard disappeared into the embrace of the water, never to be seen again.

Nai’a wanted to help, she had the urge to do something, to swim out there and attempt to rescue to guards, but she knew if she did her fate would be that of them, so she stood there in shock and disbelief watching the mage go towards the strange obelisks that protruded from the depths of the water. What is going on!? Nai’a said to herself, fear coursing through her body, making it shake slightly with the coldness of fright and the arctic wind that made her dress billow around her small body. Nai’a was terrified that the hooded figure would see the pink haired women standing there watching him. Her pink hair whipping in the wind like a beacon calling him forth. She quickly turned and ran, not knowing where she was headed or going, she just had this need to escape, escape the evil hooded figure before it was too late.

She ran up a road, the silence of the night chasing her, the memories of the death she had seen in the infirmary and of the guard, as well as the hooded figure haunted her. She did not want any more this, her heart could not take much more death that seemed to have plagued this city. As she ran she did not watch nor care where she was going, she was just running away from the haunting memories, tears falling freely from her dark grey eyes. Then she hit something, hard, and fell backwards, landing rough on her rear, as a loud boom permitted the silent skies. All she saw was a blur of long red hair in the darkness, as her vision was not that good.

[Valo]

Something thumped into him with such impact that he nearly lost his footing. Something clearly travelling at some velocity. Something or someone. That was all deduced before he even turned around to see what this mysterious sometime was, but upon doing so he wished he hadn't. Pride it was that caused him to wish she did not see him in such a state. For he was once again broken by the world, broken by the alcohol which he took to after not being able to deal with the loss of his dear companion Besnik, his beloved bond mate who exchanged him for an elaborate quest to the unknown. Unable to deal with the emotion, was Valo and unable to deal with the death that just occurred. The innate behaviour of the man was to kneel down by her, his eyes trust into her's with urgency. "Are you ok?" he asked in a voice rusty with the magnitude of the situation. And with that he had forsaken his gentlemanly dialogue, merely offering his aid in helping her up. His body close to her's in protective manifestation.

[Elliha]

Elliha was wandering the dark streets of Zeltiva, the alcohol was still poisoning his mind, he was not used to drink so much and yet he drank every beer they offered him. A drink for a story seemed like a good deal. Until now. He could almost hear the Voice of his father. The mind is the sharpest blade you have, alcohol blunts it. The slight stings of pain that went through his head seemed to mock him even more. Elliha yearned for the cold winds of Avanthal to clear his mind, but he was far away from home. Home? You obstinate fool, did you already forget? You have no home anymore. He thought to himself while a cold smile crossed his. Unconsciously his feet led him to the docks and as he glared upon the black water he remembered the story of the jester who killed his king and took the throne for himself. If you can mimic a king, you can also be one, he thought, but in the end he plunged the kingdom into ruin and was hanged by his own people. The ability to act like a King does not make you one; neither does a throne nor a scepter. Neither does the name of a hero make you a hero. Elliha flinched as a loud voice somewhere from the darkness of the sea interrupted his thoughts; he looked up and saw a boat turning and another one with a dark figure standing on it, wrapped in dark clothes. A part of him wanted to help, but he eyes where focused on the person standing on the boat, he did not seem to care as the overturned boat floated into the darkness. Did he do that? Elliha asked himself. Did he just witness a murder? He looked around, but saw nobody. What was going on? Just leave, hurry and run! You are an actor, not a hero. He told himself and quickly turned around to leave silently. Was this cowardice? Maybe, but there lies little honor in death and that person, whoever he or she was, had just proven that death was an option. He could only take a few steps until he noticed a strange feeling. Was somebody there? Run. A name does not change who you are... But he did not run. Suddenly he heard steps not far away and then everything happened at once. He did not know what was going on, but it seemed like his headache had just become his smallest problem.

[Nai'a]

A strange yet slightly familiar voice reached her ears, as she shook her head slightly and looked over at the man beside her. ”Valo…?” Nai’a asked softly, her voice coming out in a whisper. She closed her eyes tightly then opened them again, just to be sure she was seeing her sweet Valo. When she realized it was really him, she leapt into his arms. ”Oh Valo! There was this man.. and the wave guard.. and then boom!” Nai’a said in a panicked rush, ”I was running away.. and then there you were… like always.” The panic in her voice left when she said ‘like always’, instead it carried a sweet and pleasant tone.

Nai’a’s panic had begun to recede and she took in Valo, there was something a little off about him. His eyes lacked the luster and shine they usually had, and his voice came out rusty and hard, not smooth and sweet like honey. Nai’a frowned slightly, and placed her small hand on the side of his face, ”Valo… What is wrong? Have you been drinking?” Nai’a looked into his dull dark green eyes, seeing the sadness that lingered in the depths. She examined him now with the eyes of a healer, taking in the difference of the man. So concerned for the man, she did not notice anything or anyone around them, her one and only focus was sweet Valo, and how she could help him, if he'd let her.

[Valo]

Her words and the joy at the sight of him completely washed over the artist. A lack of comprehension of their meaning, for the mind of the man was a blur, smudged into chaos by what he just witnessed, dampened by the alcohol he had ingested earlier on. Though perhaps he was not drunk, he wasn't completely sober of mind either. It seemed that the moment his faithful companion had abandoned him, Valo's entire world had once again spiralled into darkness.

He did not reply with the same amount of joy to see her, though if it was any other case than he would have no doubt embraced her fondly. But as her cool hand rested on his burning cheek, there was a deep solemn expression upon his face. ”Valo… What is wrong? Have you been drinking?” she asked, a deep concern in her voice.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." was his reply after a moment to truly fathom the meaning of her words. His focus drifting for her, back in time to the event that plaid in his head over and over, only to return back to her again. A voice of bitterness which he truly did not mean. And his hand grabbed hers, moving it from his cheek and abandoning it in the air, only to rise to his feet and begin in the direction of the Kelp Bar. "I just..." he murmured, turning away from her. "I think I need another beer."

Elliha heard the footsteps, somebody was running and then there was a muffled sound and it stopped. Who was that? Somebody involved in this? Unlikely. Would he run? Somebody who witnessed this and panicked? Maybe. Probably a man, no woman would walk around the docks at night. Why did he stop? Who made him stop? Elliha moved quickly and as quietly as possible. He did not dare to run, he feared it could draw unwanted attention. He tightened his black coat around his red shirt while moving. Even though there was snow in Zeltivia, the cold winds at the docks made him shiver. Or was it something else? Elliha turned around a corner and reached a big street, he did not know the name, nor did he know where exactly he was. Although he was already living here for some time, he would still get lost constantly. Maybe because he was always letting his mind wander around, while moving through the city. Today, however, there was no time to be lost in thought. Instead he stood there and watched the two people in the middle of the street. A young woman lying on the ground and a man with long red hair kneeling beside her. One of his assumptions turned out to be wrong. It was most likely the woman who was running. The two seemed to be talking and from what Elliha could see it did not seem like a dangerous situation. His first thought, was to turn around and leave, but if they had seen what happened at the docks… To act like a hero is not the same as being one. But his self-doubts would not hinder him this time. It was time to find out if he had found friends or foes. Reality is illusion and life is a stage. He thought while walking down the street towards them. As he got closer his tension seemed to disappear and he appeared to be more relaxed. Was this a sudden glimpse of courage or just part of a role? Probably both, his eyes, however, remained blue. Blue like the dark waters of the sea during a storm.

[Nai'a]

When Valo said he was fine, she knew it was a lie, but she could not understand why he would lie to her. It hurt her that her sweet Valo would lie, but what hurt her most was his voice of bitterness as he removed her hand from his face. Her face contorted into that of one who had just been slapped. He rose and started to walk away from her. Before he walked too far he said something about another beer. Nai’a sat there a little shocked at Valo, and why he was treating her like he was. She gasped as pain laced through her body, into her stomach. She looked down and felt her stomach vaguely. Everything seemed to be fine, just shock from the fall she supposed. She stood up, and her emotions started to run away from her, like they had been for some time.

Nai'a's voice yelled after the retreating man angrily, laced with a small amount of hurt,”Valo, you get your red headed petching arse back here!” Nai’a started to stomp after him, but then her sensitive ears picked up a pair of feet approaching. She frowned slightly, and turned around to see a man heading towards where she and Valo were. From what she could see in the dark, he was tall and had black hair, and he wore darker colored clothing. Nai'a could not help but wonder how much of the little scene this stranger had saw, and her face flushed slightly, but he was a stranger and it made her guard go up.

”W-whose there? Nai’a stammered out in fear, her voice coming out in a soft whisper, sweet sounding compared to what it just was. Petching emotions. Nai'a thought to herself briefly. Her arms wrapped around her stomach protectively, the pain still there yet numb now, going away thank Rak’Keli, as she waited for the male to answer her question.

Elliha saw the red haired man walk away and hesitated for a moment. Maybe this had nothing to do with the hooded figure on the boat. Was this just a simple quarrel? For a short moment he felt like a fool. Again he thought about turning around, but the young woman had already seen him. ”W-whose there?” She asked, but it did not seem like more than a whisper. Elliha looked at her; her arms were wrapped around her stomach. He had never seen a woman with pink hair, at least not without using any form of colouring. “My name is Elliha, Elliha Greywind. I just came from the docks and…” And what? ’I think I saw someone getting killed and thought maybe you can help?’ He thought and realized this all was indeed foolish. Was he still under the effect of this horrible beer? “…and I think I might have just walked into something I should not have. Forgive my intrusion.” He replied instead. Elliha thought about turning away and going. But going where? Back to the World’s end Grotto and pretend nothing happened. Was his first thought. But it could not be the best to leave her alone around here. On second thought she would probably prefer to be left alone instead of being bothered by some stranger. Everything seemed to be weird, why did he not just go to the library on his first day so he could have left the city some time ago. Instead he was running around in bars, getting drunk, watching people get killed and bothering women. Not the best start for a new life... he thought and ran his fingers through his hair.